


Christmas Balls

by Losille



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, Christmas Tree, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hallmark Christmas movie worthy, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losille/pseuds/Losille
Summary: There comes a time in every dog owner’s life where he must consider neutering his companion. Tom doesn’t wantmorepuppies running around, anyway, so the decision is simple. Bobby, on the other hand, can’t seem to understand why his dad would be so cruel to him. Nobody tookhisbollocks, did they? How isthatfair? Maybe he can convince the nice veterinarian lady to give his dad a taste of his own medicine…





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please spay and neuter your pets! The health benefits far outweigh the risks, trust me. As an aside note, I’ve fudged the numbers on Bobby’s age a bit; in the middle of December, he would just be 4 or 4.5 months old according to the timing of the first mention of him on Twitter. I’ve made him on the older edge of 4/5 months old. While sterilization is safe and done at this age (I, personally, have had animals fixed this early and they were fine), the regularly accepted age of sterilization is around 6 months to 1 year. As always, though, listen to your veterinarian. What was right for my dogs may not be right for your dogs, cats, or other pets.

****

 

**Prologue**

When Bobby zoomed out of his crate to do his customary morning whiz outside, something immediately warned him of impending danger. The vibrations in the earth and the scent mingling in the frosty air meant the day wasn’t going to go his way. Bobby had often thought this the case, with strange smells tickling his nose, forcing a sneeze out, but ultimately to no radical upset. Dad just laughed at him, patted his head and usually went about putting his running shoes on or fixing breakfast. Nothing terrible happened except, perhaps, a stern talking to about a torn up paper or a tiny wet spot by the door (at least he tried to get outside!).

Today, though, Bobby realized his fears were founded. After his sneeze, he got the customary pat and a laugh from his father, but then everything changed. Dad went straight for the closet by the door they used for walks and pulled out that weird harness thing and his lead. It definitely wasn’t time for walks, mind. The sun was barely up over the horizon, and it was too cold. He’d freeze! What was his dad thinking? It was time for breakfast and a morning nap on top of the floor spot where the warms came out. Maybe a little tug-o-war with the rope.

Walks were for  _later._

Struggling while Dad tried to put the thing on him—Bobby had already learned that trying to talk to the great oaf was no use as he clearly had no ability to understand even the simplest commands—didn’t seem to clue his dad in to the mistake he’d made, either. What could he be doing, anyway? This wasn’t the order of things! Food first. Then play and nap. Bobby received a harsh rebuke, his dad’s hands tightening around his shoulders and holding him firmly.  A little too firmly, if he were honest, but it was enough to stop the thrashing about he’d been doing, much to his dismay.

Bobby thought about dragging behind his dad when he guided him outside and onto the busy street, but all the morning smells changed his mind. He was hot on the trail of particularly delicious smelling sausages when they stopped and Dad yanked on his lead to get him to heel. Okay, maybe it wasn’t really a yank. More of a light tug, but it still annoyed Bobby as the trail of greasy meats mixed with the odious smear of a German Shepherd’s poo right under his nose.  Bobby gagged and sneezed again, nudging at his dad’s leg to move away.

But Dad opened a door in front of them and led him inside a warm building, instead.

Bobby froze inside the door, assaulted with all the overpowering chemical odors of the worst place on earth. He’d only been here twice with his dad, and both times, they’d stuck things into places they shouldn’t be stuck, and then poked him with sharp little teeth in his scruff. The white-haired man with the teeth said it wouldn’t hurt, and maybe it didn’t, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable.  And it made Bobby remember the times when his mummy—his real mummy—would pluck him from a pile of his brothers and sisters and scold him for being a loud mouth and causing a brawl.

“Oh, hello, Tom!” came a cheery voice.

Bobby pulled on the leash, pushing back toward the door. Maybe if he could just find a nice person outside, they’d open it for him and he could run off?

“Hey, Phyllis!”

Bobby looked up at the old lady with the cloud of white hair on her head as she peered over the counter at him. She reminded Bobby of the lady who kept his mummy, but this one didn’t have the scary painted-on eyebrows that always made his mummy’s old lady look surprised. He liked Phyllis. She always snuck him an extra treat on his way out of the building.

Phyllis came around the counter and leaned down, her ancient bones groaning as she bent to scratch Bobby’s ear. “You’ve grown so much since we last saw ye, wee one.”

“Like a weed,” his dad replied. “I didn’t think he’d get this large, his mother wasn’t very big.”

“Ye canna tell from the dam,” Phyllis said. “If ye dinna see the sire, then there’s always room for growth.” She stood up and looked at his dad. “Is wee Bobby here for his neutering?”

Neutering? What the hell was that? Bobby didn’t like the sound of it. Not one bit.

“Let’s get ye in a room,” she said, grabbing some papers and motioning them back to a smaller room.

There, she stuck the thermo-thingie in the place where it wasn’t meant to be stuck, and plopped him on top of a curved white contraption that she made him sit on before proudly pronouncing he was seven kilograms and fighting fit. Whatever that meant.

Then they were left alone in the silent room that smelled of pissed-off calico and nervous bulldog. He crawled up onto the bench where his dad sat looking at that little rectangular thing always in his hands, and rested his head on his dad’s leg. With an empty, growly stomach and no morning nap, he was already exhausted. What was his dad thinking!

Bobby dozed off and only woke up when he heard the squeak of hinges and an exasperated voice say, “I’m so sorry we’re running behind. We had an emergency bowel obstruction already this morning and everything got shot all to hell—oh my god, Tom!”

His dad jumped up from the bench in apparent surprise, because he didn’t care that he knocked Bobby on the head with his knee and let him fall with a thump back on the seat. Bobby huffed and righted himself, peering over the metal table between them and the newcomer, deciding if it was friend or foe.

A pretty lady with a big smile held her arms out to his dad. A lot of people did this to his dad. He didn’t understand it, except this time his dad didn’t hesitate to take the woman into his arms and squeeze her to his chest.

“Wow, Ivy! How are you?” his dad asked, a silly grin on his face. “Last I heard you were in Mexico.”

“Yeah, about two years ago,” the lady, presumably Ivy, replied with a laugh. She had a kind face with big eyes and full lips that stretched across perfect flat teeth. Bobby still didn’t understand how humans could eat anything with teeth like that. “I’ve been in Edinburgh since.”

“And why down here now?”

She shrugged. “Working for Da again.”

“I thought you two couldn’t ever work together?” he asked.

“Well, he’s getting ready to retire, and I’d like to take his practice over,” she said. “So we’re going to make it work.”

His dad frowned. “Something in your voice tells me that’s not all.”

Ivy laughed. “When you’re made redundant with no notice whatsoever three weeks before Christmas because your ex-boyfriend is a Class One Arsehole, this is what you do. You lick your wounds back at home.”

“Oh, ouch, I’m sorry I asked,” Tom said. “You’re living with them, too?”

“Until I can find a place. Like I said, no warning,” she replied. “And it’s very difficult to find a flat in this area, in my price range, that allows a cat and a dog, just before the holidays. As it turns out, you don’t make a fortune when you decide to wander the world’s missions providing veterinary care.”

His dad laughed again and took a step closer to the lady, dropping his gaze for a moment to her lips, then looked at her eyes again. Strange behavior, that. Bobby had never seen his dad do that before, to a lady or man. Everything about today was strange. The air in the little room was suddenly even stranger, smellier. Like his dad had been running a lot, but that wasn’t the case because there had been no run or walk, and it wasn’t bad, per se. He certainly smelled different, though.

“So,” she said, expelling a giant breath and looking down at the papers in her hand. “Who do we have today?”

“Oh!” His dad turned to him, as though Bobby had been forgotten. Bobby tried not to take affront to the slight, but it was difficult not to as he was put back on the cold metal table between the lady and his dad. “This is Bobby.”

“Bobby?” she asked.

It was a good name. Bobby liked his name, because it was the name his dad had given to him.

“Long story,” he replied.

“And you’re here for a neuter?” The lady bent down to Bobby and met his eyes. He really liked this lady’s eyes, like his dad did. They were deep and kind, but full of life with a little crinkle at the corners every time she smiled. Her hands and fingers were nice, too; lovingly gentle, but also firm, as they rubbed down his back and scratched his ears and pressed carefully on his belly. She put the cold silver disc to his chest and the plastic things in her ears, the room falling into silence as she closed her eyes and listened for a minute.

Bobby lifted his head and looked at his dad, but his dad wasn’t looking down at him. He was staring straight across the table at the woman holding Bobby to her soft, warm body while she listened to the thumpa-thump of his heart. He couldn’t recall his dad  _ever_  looking at a woman like that, either, suspended in some sort of trance, like when Bobby really clued in on an invading bug while preparing to pounce on it.

When Ivy stirred again and let go of him, his dad breathed in deeply and stepped back with a shake of his head. “Everything sound alright?”

Ivy chuckled. “Perfection, of course! I’ll be doing the surgery this morning, and we’ll give you a ring after to let you know how everything went. You can pick him up any time after three this afternoon.”

_Whoa!_

Just wait one darn minute. His dad was  _leaving_  him here? This was ridiculous! No breakfast, no nap, and now he had to go with the nice lady? Didn’t he have any say in this?

“He’s being a bit of a handful today,” his dad said. “Didn’t want to come.”

“I should think not,” Ivy said on a laugh, gathering Bobby’s head in her hands to bend down and press her lips to the fur just above his eyes. It was a nice kiss. Bobby liked it enough that he made sure to stick his tongue out and swipe her cheek, too. “Mmm, you smell yummy. Just like a boy ought to. Like fresh soap and cologne.”

Bobby could have sworn his dad swallowed his tongue for the sound he made. He didn’t understand what was going on, but everybody was acting very odd. And he  _still_  didn’t want to stay the day in this place. No matter how much he liked Ivy’s hands and lips.

Ivy grinned at him again before looking back at his dad. “We’ve got it from here, Daddy. You can go now.”

“Oh, alright,” his father said, giving him one last pat on the head. “Be good for Dr. Hayes, Bobby.”

Bobby huffed, but settled into Ivy’s soft embrace. Well, this was nice. Nicer than his dad’s hard chest. Maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

With one last glance over his shoulder, his dad left them in the room alone. Ivy lifted Bobby further up her chest; he nuzzled her neck and stayed there as she hugged and kissed him again. “Alright, little one, let’s get those bad boys taken off so you don’t run around bedding all the lassies.”

Bobby  _definitely_  didn’t like the sound of that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much!

**Part I**

Tom figured he was probably the worst dog parent known to mankind. Instead of fretting all day about how his precious pooch was doing in surgery, he found his mind wandering repeatedly to the woman slicing and severing and sewing him up.

And, to top it all off, his excitement to pick up Bobby had little to do with warm puppy cuddles or anything even remotely fatherly. It had everything to do with seeing Ivy again.

It had been a long time.

Too long, if he were being honest.

Five years, by his count.

She was still the same old Ivy, bright and bubbly, gorgeous and curvy, the latter of which had only filled out in the time since they’d last been in the same room with each other at her brother’s moving-to-Australia party.  Of course, she hadn’t always been such a looker; in fact, when he first became friends with her brother, Archie, at Eton and joined the Hayes family on a holiday in Majorca the same summer, she’d been nothing but the annoying little sister, two years his junior.

She had big eighties-style plastic glasses and a penchant for memorizing Star Wars dialogue, while he, at the ripe old age of thirteen, tried desperately to distance himself from such associations. And then, to make matters worse for her, early puberty tragically catapulted her toward bad acne and greasy hair; he had no time for her and all the time in the world for the buxom Spanish beauties sunning themselves on the glittering island shores.

Things had changed for her, slowly at first, and then they lost touch when her parents sent her to a boarding school in Scotland. Eventually, she showed up at Cambridge with an amazing rack, a pouty smile and the biggest, most come-hither doe eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. If any of those features had grown any larger, they would most assuredly become ridiculously cartoonish in a Disney sense, but they’d stalled at just the right proportions to make her the talk of Pembroke College.

Because  _of course_  she had to choose Pembroke while he was still there, so he had to watch her gallivanting through the dining hall and around campus, trailed by a whole gang of silly young boys that set his teeth on edge. She was like the freaking Pied Piper of Pembroke; perhaps more St Patrick, for most of those boys were slithery little snakes and treated her terribly.

Not that he had anything really to say about it, though Archie had insisted he watch out for Ivy. Which he did, but if there was one thing Ivy did not need, it was a bodyguard. Because he’d never seen a woman put another man in his place as quickly or as viciously as she could. When it was all said and done, Tom thought it was probably a good thing God had graced her with a steel will in addition to her voluptuous exterior. She needed something to protect herself from too much hurt, especially seeing as she was also the type of person to fall too quickly into and out of love, both with people  _and_ places.

Which was why he hadn’t seen her much since he graduated from university. After her own commencement, she traveled the world on humanitarian missions providing veterinary care to farm animals and pets alike, but not for some all-consuming need to save the world. Obviously, her want to help the less fortunate was a cornerstone to her personality. However, the moving around bit had more to do with her unwillingness to be pinned down in one place for very long without an out.

It made him suspicious, then, that she had returned to London to eventually take over her father’s practice. This wasn’t some position she could easily abandon; the practice had been going for some forty years since her father started it, with a list of longtime clients. Had she finally reached the point of settling down?

And if she was settling down, what was he going to do with that information?

Apparently, he was going to invite her to move in with him like a good friend because he didn’t want to see someone forced to live with their parents any longer than they actually had to. Phyllis and Graham were lovely people, but they certainly had their troubles with a daughter who, by their standards, was a wild child.

To put his foolhardy plan into action, he held off returning for Bobby until later, far past the three o’clock retrieval time, closer to six when the clinic closed because he wanted to talk with her. Maybe invite her back so she could see the room he had available—the one that had once been a previous flat mate’s, but had since been empty. Then he could spring his idea on her, and hope she didn’t take it the wrong way, like he was trying to get into her trousers.

Which he totally wasn’t, because he was a gentleman. And she’d just got out of a relationship. Right?

Phyllis greeted him with a smile when he walked into the clinic from the darkening street outside. “Ye certainly waited long enough!”

Tom smiled at the woman who was more like a second mum to him than anything. As it turned out, Dr. Hayes, the elder, got on with Dr. Hiddleston, his father, like a house on fire after their boys had become friends. From that point forward, their families’ fates were sealed. His mum and Phyllis traveled together. His da and Dr. Hayes often went cigar smoking at the club they both belonged to, if they weren’t back in Scotland for an early tee time.

And Emma and Ivy had become best friends.

Which made inviting Ivy to live with him a no-brainer, really. With Christmas coming up, it would make more sense for her to be around; though Dr. and Mrs. Hayes planned to travel to Australia to visit Archie for the holiday, Tom parents’ wouldn’t hear of Ivy being left alone. It was a perfect situation!

“Yeah, I had some things to do,” he lied through his teeth. At the moment, he had nothing on his schedule but relaxation.

Phyllis grinned at him like she could see straight through his flimsy excuse. “Well, he ought tae be rarin’ to go by now. Let me see.”

She picked up the phone and dialed an extension before she spoke into it to say that Bobby’s owner had arrived. He took a seat in the waiting area as Phyllis answered several calls in quick succession; the door from the back opened up and he stood, expecting to find Ivy, but felt immediate disappointment when it was one of the other vet nurses.

He did, to his credit, forget about Ivy the instant he spied the pitiful expression on Bobby’s face. Was it possible for dogs to have so many expressions? Because this one about broke Tom’s heart, and the opaque white cone around his neck didn’t help the image at all, either. On his right front arm was a blue bandage wrapped all the way around. Bobby only let out a little whimper and shook his tail a bit, but wasn’t his usual energetic spaniel self.

Oh, God. What had he done to his poor child?

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston,” the tech said. He looked at her name badge—it read NICOLE. He’d not met or seen her the last two times he’d been in with Bobby. She was also, apparently, a fan of some sort. He could read that thousand watt smile with no trouble. It was the “on the edge of freaking out” grin. “Here he is,” she said, handing the puppy over to him.

Tom took the bundle of fur from her arms, gingerly wrapping his own arms around the warm puppy to snuggle him close. Bobby released a heavy sigh and set his head on Tom’s shoulder, sounding thoroughly dejected by the whole experience. However, Tom took it as a win that his poor pup still liked him enough to want to be cuddled.

“These are his meds,” Nicole said, holding out a bag with a folded piece of paper in it. “There are detailed directions inside, but we recommend the Tramadol for pain every twelve hours with food, at least for the first few days. Afterward, you can give it at your discretion, but it won’t hurt to give him the full course and on schedule. Better to keep the pain away completely than let it creep up and have to battle it.”

“Will he… will he be in that much pain?” Tom asked, suddenly beside himself. He knew, logically, the procedure wouldn’t be painless, but it hadn’t connected until that moment, at least, that it would continue to hurt for a little while.

Nicole giggled and reached out to give Bobby a little scritch. “Every dog is different. He’s not been very whiny, so he seems like he’ll take it on the chin like a proper Englishman.”

“Well, good.” Tom bent his head and looked down at the puppy lounging in his arms. “And the bandage?”

“Take it off when you get home, but just make sure he doesn’t chew or lick at his leg,” she said. “The IV cath was in there, so now that it’s out it shouldn’t bother him, but you never know with little ones. Other than that, he’ll probably sleep the rest of the night. Give him a light meal tonight with his meds… and you can return to regular feeding in the morning. Limit rough playtime and jumping for the next fortnight.”

Tom’s head was spinning with all the information. He could barely do this with one puppy. How could people with human babies take care of their own flesh and blood without completely losing it, forgetting something, or being a good parent? Yeesh.

He began to thank Nicole, but paused when the door to the back rooms burst open. Ivy hustled out, throwing a coat on over a slim black skirt and an ivory cashmere sweater that did nothing to hide her amazing figure—certainly different from her hospital-blue scrubs from earlier. She set a leather bag and a purse on the counter and hastily shoved her arms through both coat armholes.

“Och, Mum, I’m so late,” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you give me a warning call?”

“I did, Ivy. Ye told me ye were in th’ middle of expressing anal glands,” Phyllis replied, her voice censuring.

 _That_  did not sound pleasant. But for some reason, the thought of Ivy’s delicate, fine-boned fingers in the arsehole of an animal made him laugh. She’d never been overly girly, refraining from getting down and dirty, but that thought placed her on another level.

Ivy mumbled something before turning in his direction. “I don’t need to hear it from you, either, Thomas. Watch it or I’ll express  _your_  anal glands.”

Tom sucked in a breath, wondering if he would actually mind that. Sadly, and almost abhorrently, he could think of worse things that could happen to him; if she were near the prostate, well, then all bets were off.

“Ivy Margaret Hayes, I’ll nae have that gab in this office!” Phyllis scolded. “I dinnae care how old ye are or if ye outrank me. He is a client.”

Ivy rolled her eyes at her mother and wrapped a thick woolen scarf the same shade as her brown eyes around her neck. She set her hands flat on the counter and pushed herself up enough to lean over the thing without going around—Tom marveled at the strength that must have required—and then planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I’ll be back later. My meeting shouldn’t go too late tonight, I hope.”

Phyllis smiled and grabbed her daughter’s cheeks in her hands, giving her a kiss in return. “I hope this is the one you’re looking for.”

“You and me both,” Ivy huffed and settled back on her heeled feet. The shoes only accentuated the smooth, long muscles in her calves. He never realized she was that much into fitness, nor that her legs looked that good.

Okay, maybe he  _had_ noticed the latter, but on his list of preferred physical attributes, legs were not at the top.  He thought about amending that list now, though. Now that he’d had a good look, he wondered what hers would feel like wrapped and clenching around his hips.

Which was exactly the last thing he needed to be thinking about Ivy Hayes. If they were going to live together, he couldn’t think of her as a sexual object. That was off limits. She was persona non-grata where that was concerned.

She grabbed her bags and tossed them on her shoulder, waving at Nicole and him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nicole. Please make sure Dusty ate his food before you leave, and if he doesn’t, take the bowl out and note it.”

“I will, Doctor,” Nicole said.

He almost let Ivy escape before he remembered why he’d come around so late. Tom thanked Nicole and Phyllis and jumped out the shop door just as a cab pulled up to the curb and Ivy reached for the handle to let herself inside the vehicle.

“Ivy! Wait!” he called.

Ivy’s back straightened, and she turned around stiffly to look at him. “Tom, I’m really, really late.”

“I know. Just give me a few minutes?” he pleaded. He pointed at the black Jaguar parked two cars down the road. “I can give you a lift for your time.”

She groaned and slumped her shoulders, looking inside the cab at the driver. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m going with him.”

The cabbie nodded and zoomed off into traffic again with a squeal of his tires.  Tom sighed and readjusted Bobby in his arms, realizing the increasingly heavy animal had officially fallen asleep.  Ivy marched down the pavement to his car and stood beside the passenger door, turning to look at him expectantly.

“Come on! I need to go!”

“Right!” He strode down the street and unlocked the doors as he went. Ivy heard the click and slid easily into her side before he even had to opportunity to open the rear door and position Bobby on the blanket he’d laid there earlier for the ride home.  When everyone was finally settled, he turned the ignition and looked at her. “Where am I taking you?”

She held her mobile up at him. “Go toward Primrose Hill. What did you need me for?”

Something very crass played at the tip of his tongue, but he succeeded—barely—in holding it back. Instead, he looked askance at her, keeping his eyes on the road as he began the short trip toward Primrose. “About your living situation.”

“Oh, that,” she said, relaxing into her seat, as though she thought what he wanted to talk to her about would be upsetting. What did she think? There was going to be something unpleasant he wanted to talk to her about? “Hopefully it’s all sorted after my meeting. You’re taking me to meet my estate agent at a flat.”

“Oh.” He pressed his lips together and squinted out the window, even though there was no sun and none of the street lamps were particularly bright.

Ivy sighed, then breathed in deeply. She shut her eyes for a moment and a smile played on her lips. “This is a nice car. I like this car.”

“I’m glad,” he replied.

“Totally beats the rust buckets I’m used to in the field,” she said. “And it makes me feel like a Bond girl.”

Tom muffled a growl, but she simply laughed at him. Of course, she’d poke fun at him whenever she got the chance. It seemed to be her favorite thing to do whenever he was around. But, he played along. “I’m a  _villain_ , darling. Not a hero.”

“I’ve always known that,” she remarked, smoothing her hands down her skirt-covered thighs.

He nearly swerved into an oncoming vehicle with his attention on her knees, not on the windscreen. With concerted effort, he glued his attention forward, gripped the steering wheel harder. The leather stretched, the sound audible in the quiet car.

“Drive much?” she teased.

“Shut up.”

Ivy laughed at him. “By the way, Bobby is amazing. I love him. I thought about stealing him.”

“Yeah?” For some reason, that made his heart five times as large as normal, and his chest puffed up to accommodate the needed space.

“I just can’t believe you got one,” she said. “Aren’t you on the go all the time? Traveling all over isn’t fun when you’ve got dependents.”

Tom shrugged. “I know it’s not exactly right, but with the appropriate service animal designations, he can travel when and where I want him to travel. But the only places I would take him would be the US or Europe. Otherwise, he’ll stay home.”

“I always wondered how celebrities did it with pets. I thought it was something like that,” she said. “I heard Henry Cavill does that with his dog.”

Tom hummed. “A fan of old Henry’s, huh?”

Ivy grinned. “Have you seen him?”

“I have,” he replied, suddenly feeling let down, somehow. Henry was a perfectly decent guy, based on the few times he’d met the man, but he was just like all the others Ivy dated. Well, all the others that he knew of—stupidly handsome, built, and haughty. Most of the time, Tom was none of those things.

Not that it mattered, of course.

Ivy shrugged a shoulder and glanced at him. “Too much for me to handle, though. Too pretty. Too much work.”

Tom laughed at her. “I’m detecting a very strong manhater vibe. Is your break up recent?”

“No,” she said. “We were done a year ago, and I stayed on at the clinic he owned for the following year. Like an idiot, I thought we could continue working together despite the end of our relationship. I ended up wanting to smack him every time he hit on a new client or a nurse. And I don’t ‘hate’ men. I love men. The problem is that men don’t love me, they just want to sleep with me. Then they get bored. I get bored.”

He almost confirmed that he understood why, but that was also insensitive… and not to mention completely uncalled for when it came to a friend. Was she a friend? She was a family friend, sure. They were friend _ly_  with each other. But he couldn’t really say they’d ever been “friends” as the term was strictly applied. Even at university, with him running guys off her, she didn’t want to be around him. She wanted nothing to do with him, and fairly, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her, concerned as he was with his own life.

But somehow, this time, he felt different. He wanted to be her friend. Honestly, the bit about boredom? It sounded like she was speaking directly from his own thoughts. He was bored, too. Bored of different beds and different women on a remarkably quick timetable. He wanted something solid and real, based on him. Not on how he looked or what he did for a living.

“Turn left here,” she said, breaking his thoughts. “Just up there on the right, he’s waiting for me out front.”

Tom followed her directions and slowed to a stop on the busy street lined with buildings full of flats. The street parking was completely full, so she jumped out of the car quickly, with gratitude on her lips. He meant to go on, but stopped when he realized he hadn’t even mentioned why he wanted to talk to her.

“Hey, Ivy!” he called from the open window.

She froze and spun around, looking down at the line of cars stopped behind him, angrily inching forward in a passive-aggressive attempt to get him to move on. “What?”

“I meant to ask—want to move in with me?”

Ivy nearly doubled over in laughter. “Good one, Tom. We’d drive each other up a wall in an hour.”

“Bet me!”

“You’re holding up traffic,” she said. “The Fuzz will be on you in no time.”

Tom glanced in the rearview mirror. There weren’t any flashing lights yet, but the line of cars continued to grow. Horns tooted as a polite, very British reminder of their passive aggressiveness. “Then say you’ll move in with me.”

“I don’t even know what you’re thinking or offering or anything!” she yelled. “And I might like this place!”

“If you don’t, then we’ll talk,” he said.

Ivy shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’ll call tomorrow to check up on Bobby and then I’ll let you know what happened, alright?”

Tom waved at her. “Look forward to it!”

He then waved at the person sitting in the vehicle behind him before moving off down the road. He was fairly certain the car that zoomed around him and sailed past shot him a dirty look and a backward peace sign with his fingers, but Tom shrugged it all off.

Mission accomplished.

Sorta.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know dogs don’t see a lot of color, but I had to add some to illustrate the scene. Make believe with me? Thanks for reading!

**Part II**

Upon fully comprehending the extent of his father’s treachery, Bobby vowed henceforth never to go down without a fight. Unless there were a tasty treat offered, or some really good belly rubs. But most of the time his dad clicked that stupid thing at him, trying to force him to follow his commands, but Bobby decided to sit his butt on the frozen grass and look up at his dad like he was an idiot.

The problem was that neither of them were idiots, nor did they lack obstinate spirits, so they stared at each other, locked in a never-ending battle of wills, much to the amusement of the people passing by them on the path in the park they’d come to for their daily training walk. Bobby could see the irritated tick in his dad’s jaw, the tension in his shoulders, but he felt unmoved. Bobby yawned at him, bent his head to sniff the ground, and then plopped down on the grass. He was done for the day.

“Bobby!” his dad exclaimed, heated anger singeing the edges of his exasperated sigh. “You weren’t like this the other day. The stuff you had down pat you refuse to do. Why now?”

Bobby turned his head and drew his tongue along the shaved portion of his leg where the annoying plastic tube thing had been stuck at the vet’s office. Then he cleaned a paw and looked back at his father. What did he expect anyway? After the indignity Bobby had suffered, forcing him to wear the Cone of Shame?

This walk was the first time he’d been let out of the thing, two days after the initial mortification of realizing his dangly bits had been removed while he slept. He wasn’t about to ruin the freedom of being cone-less on doing what his dad commanded him to do. Even  _if_  he hadn’t vowed to give his dad an easy go of it, anyway.

“Look, Bob,” his dad said. This time, he sounded as though he were resigned to the fate of having a lawless canine companion. “The girls are meeting us here in like five minutes, and you’re being a little shit. We have to be on our best behavior.”

Bobby lifted his eyebrows at him. The girls? Who were ‘the girls’? He’d never heard of them before, except that his dad had said something about them yesterday while they had dinner. Something about how they’d have to move his feeding station to a larger area outside of the kitchen when ‘the girls’ came to the house. He didn’t understand it, and frankly didn’t care, buried nose-deep in his bowl of delicious, meaty kibble. Now he wondered if he shouldn’t have paid more attention to the conversation, given that it was going to affect his future meals.

Bobby stood up again, but refused to make any more movement into a position that might alert his father to the fact that he was paying attention to him again. Not that he was—for his attention on the man was immediately deserted when he caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. Thinking it was some kind of ground rodent, he stiffened, his hackles rising in preparation for a fight.

But all the bluster was for naught when he zeroed in on the interlopers. Cresting the hill in the near distance was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen: golden hair glittering in the afternoon sun and blowing fetchingly in the slight breeze created by her run, big brown eyes that sucked all the air out of his little body, and legs for freaking days. Before now, anyone larger than him had given him cause for concern, but this beauty—for she was perfection in every physical attribute—was different. Even his dad knew it; his dad straightened his back and adjusted his clothes.

The beauty slowed down to a walk, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth as she caught her breath and cooled herself from her exercise. That was when Bobby realized she was attached to a lead, too, and the other end of the lead ended in the gloved hands of the nice lady from two days ago. The one with the nice smile and soft, warm cuddles. Ivy… that was her name. He didn’t even care that she was complicit in his father’s treachery; she had brought to him a worthy remuneration in the form of the Amazonian angel standing in front of him.

Bobby inched forward, his head lowered, sniffing the ground in front of him, but his dad tugged his lead again, bringing him back to his side. Bobby sat on the ground and tried to control the vibration deep in his body. He mustn’t show that he was too excited to meet her; he didn’t want to seem overly eager, after all. There was a level of propriety he had to maintain, according to his dad. Whatever propriety was. Bobby was pretty sure it meant not running and jumping on strangers. Nor licking them or getting in their face.

 _Hi_ , Bobby said.

The golden beauty ignored him.

 _I said_ hello, he repeated.

Finally, she turned, blinking her soft brown eyes at him, fluttering her long, thick lashes at him.  _Are you Bobby? Mummy told me about you. I’m Lulu._

He sighed.  _Lulu._  Perfect for her. It seemed to fit the type of dame who wore sparkling stones on her collar and bows on her triangle ears.

Lulu looked up at Ivy for confirmation and sat beside her feet without any words or a tug on the leash. Bobby was confused. Didn’t she need to be told what to do, like him? Or was she already a good girl? She looked up at Ivy like Ivy was her entire world and would do anything for her. Certainly, she wasn’t one to fight back after any sort of treachery from her mum.

Bobby dropped all the way to the ground and rolled over onto his back, beckoning Lulu to come forward and sniff him.  _All_ of him. She probably wanted to check out the other end, but he felt compelled to show he meant her no harm. Immediately. So she would be comfortable around him.

“What are you doing, Bobby?” his dad asked. “First the barking at her, now the roll?”

Ivy laughed at them both. “That’s a submissive pose. He’s showing the newcomer he means no harm. I hope you didn’t intend him to be a guard dog of any type.”

His dad scoffed. “Are you calling my dog a pussy?”

“No,” she replied. “He’s simply a lover, not a fighter. Which is completely okay with me.”

“Do we need to do what you said when we talked? Walk around with them?” his dad asked.

Ivy shook her head. “I think they’ve already got it. Every dog is different, sometimes they just click. Why don’t we go sit down on the bench over there and let them sniff it out?”

His dad shrugged and all four of them walked together to the wooden bench nearby. Lulu stepped closer to him, finally, sniffing at his head, his ears, then twisted to reach his rear end. In response, she gracefully placed both paws in front of her stretching her big, long body out until she was laying on the ground and at his height. Bobby took it as his opportunity to sniff her, and realized he liked her scent very much.

She was  _all_  lady.

“They’re really doing remarkably well,” Ivy said. “Usually puppies are all over the place.”

“He knows a pretty girl when he sees one,” his dad said.

Ivy laughed again. “Good thing he came in when he did, then.”

“He still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“Dogs don’t typically realize what happened,” she replied. “He’s probably more upset you left him at the vet than that he was fixed. But you want to know the best news?”

“What?”

Ivy grinned. “They don’t hold grudges.”

Bobby huffed.  _Speak for yourself, doctor lady!_

Everyone fell silent for a long time, enjoying the late day sun. Bobby found a place beside Lulu and sat, enjoying the mutual warmth the close proximity afforded.  After a while longer, Ivy drew in a deep breath and turned to his dad.

“Are you sure about this, Tom?” she asked, her nose scrunching up as she glanced at him.

“Surer than I’ve been about a lot of things recently,” he answered. “Honestly, Ivy, it’ll be more of a help to me than I am being to you, letting you move in. With you there, you can watch Bobby when I must be away. It’ll be so much nicer than having to kennel him or get him to a friend’s place. And then with Christmas—”

“What about Christmas?” she asked.

His dad sighed and ran a hand through his curly hair. “I was volun-told that since I haven’t had any involvement in the planning or implementation of Christmas plans for many years now, that it was finally my turn. So, I have to do the whole host thing. The whole family will be up, staying at the house. Christmas decorations and dinner and presents, you know how it goes.”

“Are you sure you want me there?” she said. “You could probably use the extra room.”

“We’ll make it work,” he replied. “And what I’m saying is that I’d like the help, if you’re up for it. I haven’t ever hosted Christmas, I don’t know the first thing about doing it, and my sisters and mother have abdicated their roles to force me to learn. I don’t know how to cook a fucking turkey!”

Ivy laughed. “What makes you think  _I_  do?”

“You’re a woman. You know these things.”

“Wow,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That’s really sexist for you.”

His dad shook his head. “You know what I mean. I don’t even know if a turkey will fit in my oven.”

Ivy shrugged. “You might have to invest in a separate roaster.”

“See? This is what I mean,” he said. “You already know more than I do.”

“You’ve never helped make dinner before? Or are you one of those guys that just takes it for granted that the food ends up on your plate perfectly cooked?”

“My job is the washing up,” he replied.

Ivy shifted in her seat and withdrew a rectangular thing out of the pocket on her puffy vest.  She bit the pointer finger on her right glove and pulled it off with her teeth to press at the rectangle thing. “I have to go. Mum and Da leave in an hour and I’m meant to ferry them to the airport.”

His dad sighed heavily. “Please, Ivy. Move in with me, at least for a trial run. They say if you can get through the holidays with someone, you’ve got it made the rest of the year.”

Ivy stood up and Lulu did so as well, displacing Bobby. Bobby fumbled to stand, yawning in his blissed-out relaxation. “I’ll do it if you do something else for me.”

“Name it.”

“I have an extra ticket to a charity gala next week,” Ivy replied. “And I need a date.”

“Like a  _date_  date?” his dad asked.

Ivy shook her head, then nodded, scrunching her face again. “Yes and no. What I need is someone to convince others that we’re dating.”

“Why?”

“To keep drunk old men away,” she said, “and also to piss off my ex who’s coming down for the party.”

His dad frowned. “Are we still teenagers?”

Ivy smacked his arm with her handless glove. “Either agree to it or I’m not moving in. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of actor, anyway? I thought you would make it convincing. And… it would really get his goat because, well, you’re you.”

Dad stood and stepped closer to Ivy, much too close, Bobby thought, for human personal space requirements. Most humans stood a few feet apart. If his dad moved another inch they’d be touching. As it was, Ivy had to crane her neck up to meet his dad’s serious eyes.

“Yes, but can  _you_ act the part?” he asked.

Ivy’s face darkened like the color of her long-sleeved shirt. Her lips parted and it seemed like she was having trouble breathing; her puffs of air were raspy and shallow. “I think I could do a credible job.”

“Just a warning that you might have to deal with tabloids if we do our parts too credibly,” he said, his eyes searching her face, landing on her lips again for a fraction too long before darting back to her wide eyes.

“All I care about is rubbing Hugh’s nose in the fact that he can’t have me.”

His dad shrunk away, easing the erectness of his spine and the dominance of his position standing so close to Ivy. Bobby had never seen his father act in such a way with another person. It boggled his little mind. But from what it sounded like, it meant ‘the girls’ would be staying at their house anyway. And Bobby liked that thought very much.

“Deal,” his dad said, offering his hand to her.

Ivy hesitated, looking at his hand, but eventually slipped hers into his.  They shook. “Deal.”

“Well, I guess I better let you get back to your parents’ house,” he said. “Give them my love.”

Ivy nodded. “I will. When should I bring my stuff?”

Dad pursed his lips, thinking for a minute. Bobby wondered why they were still holding hands, now no longer shaking. “In the morning? Say ten?”

“I’ll be there,” she replied. “You need to let go of my hand.”

His dad looked between them, but did the opposite of dropping Ivy’s hand. Instead, he squeezed tighter and tugged her forward. If Bobby had blinked, he would have missed what happened next, but he was enraptured with their little conversation.

Lulu seemed to be so, as well, sitting beside him.

As Ivy stepped to catch her balance, his dad swooped down and pressed his lips to her cheek in a gentle kiss that shocked Ivy into stillness. She slowly stepped back with wider eyes. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m getting into character,” he remarked.

“I don’t think you need to do much research,” she replied sourly.

He laughed. “Nuh-uh. I’m turning in a full Olivier-worthy performance. And that comes with rehearsal.”

“Right.” Ivy’s word was terse as she jerked back from him and shook off his hand—the one that still held hers like he didn’t want to let go of her.

Lulu’s nose twitched.  _Do they smell different to you?_

Bobby looked at his new friend.  _You noticed, too?_

_My mummy’s acting strangely._

_My da’s_ always _strange._

Lulu huffed and bent to lick his head.  _Humans are always strange, pup. But this is curious._

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tom,” Ivy said.

His dad grinned. “Can’t wait.”

She pulled on the lead in her hands, leading Lulu back the way they had come. Lulu turned her head.  _Bye-bye, Bobby!_

Bobby’s tongue was too tied to respond, so he looked up at his father, realizing all his attention was on Ivy’s tail-less rear. Curiouser and curiouser, that. He didn’t think humans liked sniffing tails, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Let’s head home, Bobby,” he said, turning around in the opposite direction. “We need to get ready for tomorrow morning.”

Bobby agreed with him. Yes, they did. Bobby had to pick out his favorite toys, so he would have them ready to show Lulu.

Much to his dad’s delight, Bobby walked home perfectly, doing exactly what he was supposed to do without prompt. Bobby didn’t much care, though. He had other things on his mind…

Like long legs and big doe eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you and enjoy!

**Part III**

While she was more than glad to have the use of her parents’ large Land Rover for the next fortnight, Ivy wasn’t completely certain that the reason she had to make use of it was an entirely sound idea. Somewhere, deep in her heart of hearts, she knew the arrangement she’d made with Tom would only end in heartache… simply because that was exactly how it started twenty-three years ago.

Though he had never known that. Or if he had, he ignored it.

Ivy didn’t know what was worse.

As she drove through the bustling Hampstead streets the morning following their meeting at the park, she silently replayed those many years of history, the giant knot in her stomach pulling tighter and tighter as she neared his home. After twenty-three years of unrequited love—a love quite possibly  _unnoticed_  on his part—she was headed right back into a setting that promised to ruin her.

She had, after all, loved Tom Hiddleston from the minute her brother brought him home for a family holiday. The heavens had parted and warm golden light shone down upon him, marking him as the boy she’d spend the rest of her life lamenting as the “one that got away.”

Back then, nothing else had mattered  _but_  him: being his friend, talking to and with him, convincing him she was worthy of his undivided attention. He meant everything to her yet untested romantic fancies, with his blue-green eyes and the ridiculous mop of blond curls on his head. He’d been lanky and geeky, just like her. Oh, he tried to hide that last part, but there was no denying what a swot he truly was. Dazzlingly funny and lively when warranted, but also introspective and quiet, he enthralled her with the tall tales he and Archie concocted during the balmy Spanish evenings they spent together as children.

She usually laid awake afterward, tossing and turning in the still and stifling summer nights, barely comprehending her intense interest in him. In her dreams, she relived the day’s events and thought about all the creative ways she might insert herself into her brother’s and Tom’s machinations the following day. Of course, it turned out to be impossible, as both Archie and Tom took a penchant to trolling the beaches of Majorca to ogle the tanned beauties sunning themselves by the clear waters. Neither wanted their little sister with the spots on her face to tag along. To be honest, she probably wouldn’t have wanted it either, if the positions had been reversed.

But at night… at night she had him all to herself.

Some girls her age fantasized over the members of boybands, but she had Tom Hiddleston, her very own idol, though no one had a clue as to what a celebrity he would eventually become. But she’d known it back then with every molecule in her body, with the way he played people, drew them—drew  _her_ —into his little flights of fancy.

He’d  _always_  been a star.

And he was hers, better than any silly celebrity she had no hope of meeting. Tom Hiddleston was attainable, right across the hall from her. Her friend. Her crush. Her unrelenting teenaged infatuation.

But that’s  _all_  he’d been, despite attempts a few years later to convince him that she was much more than the annoying little sister he constantly placed in the same category as Emma. She and Emma were the same age, after all, attending the same school for a time. To his slow, dumb, teenaged brain, none of her vast differences ever made a difference.

Not at university.

Not the last time they saw each other at Archie’s Bon Voyage party.

Not when she ran away, traveled all over the world saving animals, attempting to put as much distance between them. To forget him. To find something—some _one—_ else.

That was, until, he showed up at her father’s veterinary office.

She was probably fooling herself; if all these years had taught her anything, it was that Tom was an expert at making people  _believe_  they were the only other person in the world, when, in fact, they were just another face in the crowd. It was one of his amazing talents: the ability to zero in and create a world where just he and the other person existed, if even for a few seconds. The camera loved it whenever he was acting; it created intimacy on stage with a crowd of people. It’s what drew his fans to him in droves. It drew her to him, too.

Unfortunately, it also meant she couldn’t trust anything from him, nothing he did or said. Not the weird charge they shared while alone in the exam room. Or the tingle she felt on her skin when he’d pecked her cheek out at the park. He did things like that as a friend, usually, as one of his tactics to make people love him, but he just as easily turned right back around, unknowing and unseeing of the amplitude of his shockwaves.

Ivy knew, even as she pulled past the large black wrought iron gates onto his property, that there was a good chance she wasn’t going to make it out of this situation without being reduced to a pile of rubble from those inescapable shockwaves. And yet, there she was, slowing to a stop in front of his house, preparing to move in with him. This had to be the most masochistic thing she’d ever done to herself.

Tom eagerly walked outside the ground level entrance when she parked in front of his oddly shaped abode. He had a spring in his step and a bright smile on his face, but even that she mistrusted. Why was he so excited to see her? Was he that lonely?

Sighing, she turned her eyes back to the house, scanning the aging red brick façade. From the front, it looked to be in the shape of a giant A—all roof and shingles and very little exterior wall. The back portion seemed like a typical London townhouse. It was kooky, yet posh. Which was exactly like Tom.

She grabbed Lulu’s lead and opened the door as Tom joined her side. Lulu jumped out after her and yawned, clearly unimpressed with her new location. But that was why she loved Lulu. The dog was so blasé and cool about everything, it made her the best traveling partner around. Good thing, that, seeing as they had moved a grand total of four times since Ivy had adopted her two years ago.

Birdie, the grey house cat hissing inside the carrier on the passenger seat, was another story entirely. Hopefully, Bobby took to Birdie as easily as he took to Lulu. Whatever the case, he was in for a rude awakening with his new feline flatmate.

“You made it!” Tom said. “I thought you were going to back out.”

Ivy looked at him suspiciously. If he only knew how close to doing just that. But, he was right. She didn’t want to live with her parents any longer than she had to, even if they were in Australia for a fortnight. And she couldn’t afford a space appropriate for her and her babies in the areas she wanted. For all her problems with this arrangement, Tom had offered her the “Friends and Family” rate, which she suspected was entirely too low, even for a small bedroom and bathroom with access to the kitchen.

“You sure you want the circus moving in?” Ivy asked, leaning back inside the car for the handle of the cat carrier.

Tom laughed and held his hand out for the cat. “I’m quite a lion tamer.”

To punctuate the moment, Birdie hissed and swiped a fully extended claw at the wire bars.

He laughed again, lifting the carrier to eye level. After a good look at the pissed off cat, he grinned. “I can see you need some work.”

Ivy shrugged as she walked around to the rear of the vehicle and opened the hatch to reveal the two cardboard boxes and three large pieces of luggage she’d brought with. Moving around as much as she did for her jobs overseas meant she had whittled down a lot after finishing university, but she had never owned much anyway. She preferred not to set down roots, choosing instead to be unburdened by a whole houseful of furniture and accessories. Her parents certainly thought it was tragic for a woman of thirty-four years to be so unencumbered; doubtless, many more would think the same. But she didn’t mind.

Well, she hadn’t minded, not really, until she finished her last mission in Mexico and returned to Scotland with a boyfriend she thought she could make a life with. It had seemed perfect: the house, the job, the life in Edinburgh’s high society. Now, though, she was lost, stuck somewhere between the past and the future, but not really living in the present. She was floundering for a foothold. For a reason to have a cozy house with furniture and Christmas dinners and family.

Funny that part of that dream would end up including Tom.

At least until the new year. Until the trial run was up and she realized that this was the stupidest decision she’d ever made.

“Hey,” he said softly, bumping her arm with his elbow. “You okay?”

Ivy frowned and turned to look at him again, letting out a sigh. “Oh, yeah. Tired. After I left you yesterday, one of our patients was having trouble whelping, so I was up late seeing to that.”

“Did everyone make it out okay?” he asked. His concern was heartwarming.

“Yep, the last puppy came out and we had to do some resuscitation,” she said. “But as of this morning, mum was fine and the last whelp was nursing like all the rest. So, we’ll see.”

“What’s that like?”

Ivy lifted a curious brow. “What is what like?”

“Bringing new life into the world. Saving it?”

“Awesome,” she said. “But there’s also the other side. I can also take life away. I suppose anyone can, really, but it’s still a huge responsibility that I don’t take lightly, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tom shrugged. “It puts my career into a harsh light.”

Ivy chuckled and bumped him back, this time her hip to his hip. “I’m not curing cancer, Tom.”

“But the fact is, you could,” he replied.

“What you do is just as huge a service,” she said. “You let people escape for a little while into make-believe.”

They were quiet for a few long moments, both turning their attention to the pavement at their feet. Finally, Tom sighed and pointed a thumb at the house. “So, uh, let me show you inside and get you settled, then I’ll unload your things.”

“I can do that,” she said. “You’re nice enough to let me crash here.”

“Please, like I’m going to let you do it,” he said, leaving her standing behind the car.

She followed up a short flight of stairs onto the ground floor of the house, separated into an east and west annex. The east let out onto a giant room of bright natural light, white painted walls and glossy light-colored hardwood. Going to the right went into the kitchen, and beyond that a bedroom and a staircase.

“Where’s Bobby?”

“Outside, probably tearing into my mum’s planting boxes,” he replied.

Ivy bit her lip and laughed. “Your mum does your gardening?”

Tom scoffed. “My mum spent some time here over the summer bemoaning the lack of color in the garden. I told her if she wanted flowers, she had to do it herself.”

“How is your mum?” she asked.

“As plucky as always,” he replied, motioning for her to follow him toward the kitchen.

Ivy had no idea how they were going to cook an entire Christmas dinner for at least a dozen people in the tiny space, but she supposed they’d have to make it work. At least the appliances were shiny and new.

He pointed to the stairs. “That leads up to my bedroom, the only one on the first floor. Yours will be this one.”

They stepped into the room just off the kitchen. It wasn’t a huge double room, but the bed was big and looked comfortable as it was piled with pillows. And true to his word, there was an en-suite on the other side of the room. That was worth it, alone. It would be perfect for her, Lulu and Birdie.

“So, the bedding is all new,” he said. He set the cat carrier on top of the soft-looking lavender down comforter. “I had the maid launder it and do up the bed yesterday. If you don’t like the mattress, we can always go find another, but my previous long-term flatmate said it was perfect and I’ve had no complaint from guests since.”

Ivy nodded. “Why didn’t you ever get another flatmate?”

Tom shrugged. “They moved with me from the previous flat and stayed for a year before moving on. By then, Thor and Avengers had come out and looking for someone else the way I had before just didn’t work. That’s not to say I haven’t had a few friends crash here for a few months between jobs and such, but you know.”

“I can imagine,” she replied. “Don’t want to let in an insane person and find them in  _your_ bed.”

He chuckled and looked away from her, thumbing his bottom lip as his eyes traveled around the room. “Depends on the insane person.” Then he winked at her, a mischievous smile stretching his lips.

And… there it was again. The flirting. He  _had_  to stop playing with her.

“So,” Tom said as he clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “How are we going to do this with the animals?”

“Oh, well, we’re going to take Lulu out and let her and Bobby sniff, then bring them inside. Birdie will stay in her carrier until all my stuff is in and we have time to sit down with them together. Did you read the literature I sent you? We might even have to keep them apart for longer, but we’ll see. Bobby’s so young, it might be easier than usual, and Birdie loves Lulu, so maybe Bobby will follow Lulu’s lead.”

The look on Tom’s face was overwhelmed, but he quickly pushed it away, his smile returning. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Ivy only wished she had the same amount of confidence in the situation.

**Author's Note:**

> And no, the whole story will NOT be in Bobby's POV. Just a few select chapters.


End file.
